And the Smoking Habit
by Lily Lovett
Summary: Max smokes, Caroline cares.


And the Smoking Habit

 **Author:** Lilylovett

 **Disclaimer:** "2 Broke Girls" the TV series © CBS and its related entities. All rights reserved. There is no profit, aside from personal satisfactions here.

 **Rating:** T

 **Summary:** Max smokes, Caroline cares.

* * *

When a person works for minimum wage, it seems inevitable that either nicotine or alcohol becomes their drug of choice. More often, the two tend to work beautifully together. Max Black has always loved cigarettes. The acrid taste, the sensation of smoke, the desire to fair even the worst of weather for the time it takes to finish a cancer stick—it was all so ritualistic and self-harming, she could never _truly_ quit the habit. Besides, without cigarettes, how would she ever remember the smell of her mother?

Max began working at the Williamsburg Diner to try to maintain a low profile. (As low as a person could have with her tits and acerbic tongue.) She had already spent her life running. Faked her death. Start a fresh. The usual crazy shit in the life of Max Black. And although the pay was shitty, she knew a man as tiny and as (vaguely) religious as Han, wouldn't let her starve to death. So, he put up with Max's shit. And she stayed as a waitress at the Diner for a little over a year before she met Caroline Channing. In that time, that oh so glorious pre-Caroline era, Max got to know the preferred cigarettes of everyone at the diner.

Oleg: Djarum Blacks. Despite the fact that they're meant to be cigarillos, or baby cigars, Oleg puffs Blacks like they're common Pall Malls. Max had to eventually tell Oleg his chance of Erectile Dysfunction would increase drastically with the constant inhalation of that clove crap. Granted, that was something she totally made up, but it didn't seem untrue. (Now Oleg doesn't smoke at all, because he wanted to spend more money on fancy condoms.)

Han: Marlboro Gold (formerly Marlboro Light). Han always pretends as if he doesn't smoke, but everyone is aware that he never quit the habit in college. To make himself feel better, he goes with the option that allegedly has less rat poison.

Earl: Parliament Menthol. Classy like his old school jazz, Earl keeps his smoking habits with quality in mind. Since he tends to go for the green more often, Max knows that Earl splurges on Parliaments over the more stereotypical Newport. If she ever has to bum from someone, she always asks Earl first.

And after a year of smoking her own pack after pack of Camel Crush, Max figured she was hooked, line, and sinker. She had developed a habit of taking very strategic breaks around smoking when she was at the diner.

The first cigarette comes somewhere between 5:32-5:47pm. She smokes with Han while vaguely apologizing to him for being 30 minutes late. Every day that she comes into work. But it's the beginning of the graveyard shift that she _always_ fills, so he can't really do much about it. At about 8pm, she takes one with Earl, right in the middle of the normal dinner rush. They usually chat, and sometimes smoke a blunt beforehand. And her third smoke of the night is usually with both Oleg and Earl around 1am. They puff out the tiny window in the back of the kitchen, as if that isn't a potential health hazard.

What Max doesn't expect and what she doesn't _want_ to admit is that she dislikes the effects of smoking. She knows the rasp in her voice, the cough, the dulled sense of taste, can all be remedied by quitting. But Max works well under the influence, and she thinks it's probably the most socially accepted to be medicated by caffeine and nicotine over any other substance.

And what Max _hates_ to admit is that smoking reminds her to be sorry for herself. She is poor and stuck in a shitty tip out job with no prospects of bettering herself. So why worry about her lungs in the long run? In hindsight, that's a really bad healthcare plan. But she inhales and socializes with the cancer stick in between her index and middle finger as a shield. She reminds herself that she was born white trash and poor, and that she's pretty much destined to die that way.

But when Caroline Channing came into the picture, that whole broody smoker's mentality gradually melted away. She came into Max's life like the damn plague—infecting every part of her life, until she was nearly dead. Okay, so just dead in her drug-desiring persona. Not physically dead-dead.

"Max, really? This is your third one today!" Caroline whines while she stands outside, fanning herself in the August heat.

"Shut it, blondie. I didn't ask you to join me out here, anyways." Max takes a drag and tries to ignore the sweat between her boobs.

"Need I remind you of the dangerous consequences of smoking? One day, Max, you're gonna either die of lung cancer or be hooked up to one of those machines and have to talk with an electrolarnyx."

"I'll electro your nix if you don't stop being annoying," Max snubs out the butt.

"That doesn't even make sense, Max," Caroline rolls her eyes as she opens the back door to the diner. Max follows behind her, smirking and satisfied.

Their shift is busy. They take orders and run food and (sort of) bus dirty tables. It is a long evening, and Max looks forward to her end-of-shift smoke. She stashes it behind her ear.

Caroline swipes her Camel in passing. Had anyone else done this, Max would have flipped her shit. But when Caroline steals her smokes, Max can't help but think of the hole in her throat if she keeps doing this. Even if the robotic voice box thing would be kind of cool. She finds Caroline's intelligence slightly irksome sometimes, but she admires her all the same. Max knows blondie is _absolutely right_ about quitting.

"It's 2:35am, Caroline. Gimme back the cig and then I'll actually help you do side work." Max is too exhausted to acquiesce to Caroline in any way, shape, or form.

"No, Max. I'm cutting you off," Caroline smiles at herself, feeling clever.

"That was my last one. Bitch, you cray if you think I won't go to the bodega right now and buy another pack."

"Be my guest," Caroline smirks at her, knowingly. Max looks down to realize she's taken off her apron. With her cash tips and wallet. And it's not on the table near the napkins they are supposed to be making into roll-ups.

"What the hell? I'm letting you stay in my home and now you're gonna steal from me. Oh, no you didn't." She snaps for emphasis.

"C'mon, Max. You're being silly. Let's just finish making these roll-ups and go home. And then you can have your money and your cigarette back."

"Whatever," Max replies. But she sits down to get to her side work. Caroline babbles about her plans to hit up the local thrift shop on their day off.

It's the first time in a long time that Max has ever let someone talk her out of doing what she wants. And it's because Caroline actually _cares_ and that feels weird. Weird good. But still weird.

It's 4am on a Tuesday and Max just can't get to sleep. So she drinks, smokes a cigarette and watches the sunrise. Chestnut is dozing, but Max still thinks it's funny that the horse is definitely better company than its owner. She chuckles out loud at the thought, only be to feel her heart jump out of her chest at the unexpected response.

"What's so funny?" Caroline mutters, rubbing her eyes. She's only wearing tiny, barely ass-covering pajama shorts and a very see-through tank top. The sight makes Max want to drink even more, because she knows that Caroline is just not her type.

"Your face," Max replies a beat to late, not willing to look her in the eye. She takes a swig from the glass bottle and considers lighting another cigarette. Caroline just scoffs at her.

"You smell like an ash tray."  
"Well, at least I wear deodorant."

"That was mine," Caroline quips, more awake now. Her hair is mused and unkempt. Max shrugs.

"Same thing."

They watch the sun continue to rise, quietly. The feeling is comfortable and amicable. Max isn't used to that, so she revels in it, even if maybe it's because she's still very tipsy. She tries not to think about how now that Caroline is here, she knows she won't keep smoking. When Caroline leaves to make them both coffees, Max feels Chestnut staring at her.

"What? So your mom is a good influence on us both. That doesn't make me a pussy." She mumbles to the horse, petting her idly before going back into their apartment.

"Here's your cup with all _four_ spoons of sugar."

"Hey, at least that's a white, granular powder I can rely on."

"Is everything a drug reference to you?"

"Oh no, of course not. I need to get in my sexual innuendos _somewhere_."

After that they drink coffee and Max gets the urge to bake, despite that she hasn't slept. She also hopes Caroline never sees that actually _enjoys_ baking.


End file.
